


don't count your owls

by norio



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-08
Updated: 2016-04-08
Packaged: 2018-06-01 01:10:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,670
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6494947
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/norio/pseuds/norio
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bokuto gets stuck as an owl and Akaashi gets stuck with Bokuto.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't count your owls

Akaashi walked into Quidditch practice to see his teammates playing a polite game of hot potato.

They were clustered in the middle of the field, equipped with their brooms and shin guards, heads bowed in ceremonious respect. They were passing something to each other, their murmurs occasionally surfacing above the wind.

“Oh,” Konoha said, “but I have to study for herbology, you know how it is…”

“You pass all your subjects just fine. Well, whatever. But I’m busy with N.E.W.T.s, so you know how it is…”

“Most of us have N.E.W.T.s. I can’t take him, anyway. He seems scared of my face.”

“I can’t take him, I have to do something important.”

“At least try to come up with an excuse…”

“What’s going on?” Akaashi broke into the huddle, peering at what Komi was holding in his hands. It looked like a small gray blob, at first, until he saw it move. Slowly, the gray feathers unfurled, and he caught sight of the bright golden eyes. Akaashi looked up at the bright blue sky, and wondered what he had done to deserve this. 

The small owl hooted loudly, and jumped from Komi’s hands to flutter towards Akaashi. Somehow, he wove through the air and landed on his shoulder, then fell over. Akaashi caught him in his hands.

“It’s that again,” Sarukai said, scratching the back of his head sheepishly. 

“How long has it been?”

“A day, maybe longer. Sorry, Akaashi, but could you take care of him?”

Akaashi stared down at the small owl. Bokuto had passed all his O.W.L.s with ease. He was the captain of the Quidditch team and the best chaser they had. He was even smart enough to become an unregistered Animagus. Top of his class. Smart. Strong.

And now, once more, he was stuck in his owl mode because he’d forgotten how to transform back into a human.  
  


* * *

  
Akaashi sat by himself in the dining hall, holding a chicken scrap above Bokuto’s head so the little gray owl would have to jump to eat it. He was sitting alone at the table, rather conspicuously, because his teammates who swore they’d stick to it until the end had all abandoned him. He could have told the Sorting Hat that he preferred Gryffindor. Maybe Hufflepuff, or Slytherin. He could have made a good Slytherin. But instead, he had agreed to Ravenclaw, joined their Quidditch team, and met the captain who kept getting locked out of their common room because he couldn’t answer any of the riddles. He couldn’t count the number of times he’d been pulled away from studying because Bokuto needed, absolutely needed, to get his broom from the common room. He also couldn’t count the number of times Bokuto had actually left his broom on the field instead.

He didn’t like Bokuto very much. They weren’t friends. It wasn’t the sort of exasperation that his teammates felt, which was part affection and part annoyance. But Bokuto stuck to his side, and not the others, and Akaashi was the one who took the brunt of the Bokuto might. It was Bokuto who always picked him up from class and sat with him during midnight meals, and forced him to help him study, and woke him up in the middle of the night to climb towers, and help him write a Howler to Kuroo. Konoha and Washio assured him that Bokuto was actually a powerful wizard, very dignified, and encouraged him to keep up the good work with owl tending.

Of course, they assured him this during a Quidditch practice gone awry, and Akaashi was hovering with his broom while watching Bokuto roll around on the field, covering his face and yelling about how they shouldn’t pass him the Quaffle anymore.

But when Bokuto wasn’t squirming on the grass in agony, he was a good captain. No, when Bokuto wasn’t stuck as an owl, he could be a good captain. Akaashi vengefully held up the chicken scrap even higher, watching Bokuto beat his wings to flutter upwards.

“Ohoho?” 

Akaashi didn’t bother to raise his head to see Kuroo sit down at the table. Kenma was there, as usual, playing around with his chess pieces. He was playing with someone far away, given the wispiness of the opponent’s set. Akaashi had heard about long-distance wizard chess, using a set that would project the enemy’s moves. He wasn’t particularly interested in wizard chess, but he knew enough to hold Bokuto back from trying to nip at Kenma’s knight.

“Having fun?” Kuroo grinned, teeth glinting. Bokuto was making a fuss, all sounds and feathers, so Akaashi threw a scrap of chicken across the table and watched Bokuto scramble to eat it.

“The most fun I’ve ever had,” Akaashi said, resting his head against his hand. 

“How long has it been?”

“Two days or so.”

“Hm…” 

This made Akaashi finally raise his head. Kuroo didn’t do quiet and thoughtful. Kuroo did loud and snickering, mocking, deviousness. But Kuroo had dropped his knowing smirk. Even Kenma had darted his eyes upward, but upon catching Akaashi’s gaze, quickly returned to his game. 

“What?”

“Nothing, nothing. Don’t worry about it, Akaashi. If you need any help, just call on us, okay? Even Kenma won’t mind looking after that dumb owl for an hour or two.”

“I would mind.”

“See? He’s enthusiastic. Here, have a Bertie’s Bott, don’t be shy. I lost my innocence to one of these, you know.”

“Is there something wrong?” Akaashi politely refused the professed bean. He tried not to eat anything that vividly bright green. Kuroo shrugged and popped the jelly bean in his mouth, promptly spitting it out.

“We-e-e-ll, nothing wrong that’s really wrong. Just something curious.” 

Bokuto had returned, cawing for another scrap. Kuroo busied himself with poking at Bokuto’s wings, amusing himself as Bokuto rolled around on the table and squawked with indignant hoots.

“It’s usually faster,” Kenma said, glancing sideways at Kuroo’s distracted expression.

“Faster?” 

But Kenma already retreated from the conversation, head buried back into wizard chess where he had triumphed over the enemy. The opponent pieces shimmered in the air, then disappeared.

“It’s probably nothing, but I haven’t seen him forget for more than a day,” Kuroo said. “This dumb owl just needs a little more time, that’s all. Don’t feel down, you’ll attract a stray Dementor. They’ve been hanging outside here, you know. Here, Akaashi, have another Bertie’s Bott. I think this one’s catnip flavor.”

He could tell Kuroo was trying to be reassuring, but he wasn’t sure if catnip was the answer.  
  


* * *

  
He returned from his potions class to see Bokuto had fallen asleep, wings splayed out in the middle of the bed. It was distinctly square in the middle, no way to get onto the bed without disturbing him. So Akaashi didn’t bother to be gentle, kneeling firmly on the bed and nearly bouncing Bokuto off.

“Bokuto-san, we need to talk,” he said, drawing the curtains to his bed closed. He had long since enchanted his curtains with a silencing spell.

Bokuto hooted, fluffing up his feathers until he was a ball of feathery anger.

“Perhaps you had forgotten what it was like to be a human,” Akaashi said, unblinking. “Therefore I have gathered up some material reminders to provoke you into recalling how to transform back into a human state.” He produced several pictures from his robes, spreading them out against the bedspread. Bokuto, forgetting his small burst of anger, hopped up to them curiously.

“This is a picture at Hogsmeade. Do you remember Hogsmeade, Bokuto-san? This was where Kuroo bought the nose-biting teacup. If you are an owl, you can’t purchase items from the shops,” he said sternly. Bokuto hooted, rolling backwards in shock. 

“And this is a picture of the tea shop there. We went there and drank tea. If you are an owl, you can’t drink tea.” 

Bokuto hooted again, looking even more bewildered at the limitations of an owl diet.

“A picture of us purchasing sweets. If you are an owl,” Akaashi said ominously, “you can’t eat candy.”

It was the final blow. Bokuto fell forward, wings splayed out against the sheets. His sad, muffled hoots could only rebound off the silenced curtains. 

Akaashi glanced over the pictures again. Bokuto had been responsible for most of them, taking them himself or dragging a passerby to take the picture. Bokuto took front and center for the first few, his eyes big and round. He faintly recalled Bokuto complaining about how Akaashi was always just passing by the background of the picture, a faint blur that passed by while the rest of their teammates crowded around the picture, elbowing each other to fit into the frame.

The next few were deliberately framed with Akaashi in them. There was one in the tea shop where Bokuto was grinning, glancing at Akaashi now and then, while he sipped his tea and looked out the window. As he flipped through the pictures, there was less and less of their teammates, until he landed on a picture on some snowy day. Bokuto had his arm around Akaashi, pointing to a disappointing snowman and laughing about something. For once, Akaashi actually glanced at the camera, though his expression didn’t seem angry. Surprising, considering that he’d been annoyed to be pulled away from his studies that day. 

Bokuto made an almost cooing sound, hopping around the pictures. On a closer look, he didn’t make such a bad owl. He still sprouted the identical hairstyle, but he was quite round and fluffy. There was faint patterning along his feathers, but he still looked young. A fledgling, perhaps. Akaashi ran his finger along the hair tufts, forgetting about the pictures for a moment. 

“Bokuto-san,” he said, “You’re very troublesome.”

It was worth the slight nip of his finger.  
  


* * *

  
Seeing the lure of candy wouldn’t work, Akaashi took the next reasonable step. 

“Bokuto-san,” he said, “Since you’re an owl, you can’t participate in Quidditch practice. So stay here while we practice throwing the Quaffle through the hoops. It will be. Very. Fun.” 

Bokuto hooted loudly, but Akaashi was already rising up in the air. To be honest, it wasn’t particularly entertaining. He hadn’t realized how much of practice revolved around Bokuto. When Bokuto was in a good mood, the rest of the team was in a good mood. When Bokuto was in a bad mood, the rest of the team would try to ease him down until he livened up again. They were a good team without him, but Akaashi regretfully felt something lacking. 

“Is this really okay?” Konoha asked, holding the Quaffle. “He’s making a big fuss down there.”

It was true. Bokuto was hopping up and down, a small gray tuft down below.

“If he’s really angry, then maybe he’ll remember to transform back,” Akaashi said. “Or at least he’ll remember he can fly as an owl.”

“That’s our captain for you,” Komi said, swooping in front of the hoop. “It’s good that you’re here, Akaashi. I’m not sure if we could handle it by ourselves.”

“The last time I left him alone, he shredded my textbook,” Konoha said, tilting his head upward to the sky. “Then he got into a fight with my other book. There were feathers everywhere for days. I had feathers in my hair!”

“He made a nest with my chocolate frog trading card collection,” Komi said. “I had Alberta Toothill. I don’t think I’ve ever recovered from that.” 

“Really?” Akaashi frowned, trying to recall similar incidents.

“He wouldn’t do that with you, Akaashi. He just wants to play with you all the time. But with us, he makes a mess all the time. It’s not that we don’t like him, but it’s better that he can stay with a good friend like you,” Konoha said, obviously trying to coax Akaashi into owl care complacency. 

“It’s not like that,” Akaashi murmured.

“What do you mean?” 

Akaashi hadn’t realized he had muttered out loud, and frowned to himself. It felt slightly disrespectful to disagree with his seniors like that, but they were only looking at him expectantly.

“We’re not exactly friends. Bokuto-san just does as he pleases,” he explained.

“Is that so?” Konoha and Komi looked at each other.

“Is something wrong?” 

“No, nothing’s wrong, really. But if Bokuto is really bothering you, you can just tell us. We just thought you didn’t dislike entertaining him,” Komi said, shrugging. They did look more surprised than upset at the revelation. 

Bokuto interrupted them with a squawk, fluttering to perch onto the front of Akaashi’s broom proudly. His feathers ruffled in the wind, head darting around to watch for the Quaffle. They stared at him quietly.

“Bokuto-san,” Akaashi said, “This isn’t going to work.”

It worked surprisingly well until Bokuto flew into a Bludger. Then, in Akaashi’s opinion, it worked even better.  
  


* * *

  
The next reasonable step was ignoring him. That worked most of the time for Bokuto’s moods. But he disliked the stares drawn to him when he walked down the hallway and the little gray owl hopped behind him, hooting sadly and waiting outside the classroom. That said, the students still stared at him when he attended class with the owl on his head who dozed off in class.

Finally, he arranged a meeting with Kuroo in the library in a quiet corner, unseen by the peering eyes of other students.

“It’s been a week,” Akaashi said, “I can’t recall it lasting this long, either.”

“How’s he doing?” 

“His health has been fine.” Akaashi glanced down at Bokuto, who had his eyes drowsily closed and was sitting in his lap. He petted his head a few times, feathers ruffling in the wake of his touch. He was not above giving owl massages.

“I have a theory,” Kuroo said, “but it’s not a good theory.”

“Your assistance would be appreciated.”

“You’re a smart guy, Akaashi. I heard you can do almost every charm. Do you know the difference between Human Transfiguration and being an Animagus?”

“The intelligence held in the transfigured caster,” Akaashi said slowly. His hand slowed down in the petting, resulting in Bokuto hooting. He resumed petting, though in more deliberate, distracted strokes. The library was otherwise quiet. He gazed outside the window to the open yard stretched out before them. An Animagus kept human intelligence. Human Transfiguration did not. 

“You’re not in his year, so I don’t expect you to know, but Bokuto is good in his classes. Not book smart, of course,” and Kuroo flashed his teeth in a knowing grin, “He’s used Hogwarts: A History as a pillow before and there’s drool stains to prove it. But he’s got a natural knack for spells. I’m better, of course. But the thing about being an untrained Animagus is, well. Being untrained.”

“Untrained,” Akaashi echoed. 

“I’m not saying this is right. The idiot owl obviously responds to some human cues. But when he transformed into an owl, he might have, well. Transfigured. Which means right now, he’s more owl than human.” 

“There’s Untransfiguration,” Akaashi said, a little more urgently than he intended. “I know the spell.”

“It’s dangerous if he used a combination of spells. One spell reacts one way, another reacts in something else… Well, we’re just lucky this didn’t happen before.” Though Kuroo was smiling, he looked more tired than usual.

“If we take him to St. Mungo’s, they’ll deliver him to Azkaban.” Akaashi glanced down at the small owl, already snoozing away. His fingers tightened over the feathers. They couldn’t send Bokuto there. Even the little scraps he’d heard about Azkaban were terrifying. They said there were less Dementors there now, since the big escape. But he had also read in an old history book that the Dementors were the least terrifying things there. This stupid owl wouldn’t stand a chance. 

“Now, now, no need to jump to conclusions. There’s no way of knowing if what I said is true. Maybe he really did just forget for a while. Just let me take him for a day,” Kuroo said, “I’ll try out some things. No spells.”

Though Akaashi knew it was the best course, he was still reluctant to let go of the feathery ball of warmth. He lifted his hands up in small jerks, where Kuroo cupped the owl carefully and placed him on his shoulder. Akaashi’s hands felt colder now. He studied them curiously.

“Take some time to yourself,” Kuroo said, rising from his seat. “I’ll take care of things on my end.” 

Kuroo’s receding back disappeared from the end of the aisle. Akaashi returned his attention out the window. St. Mungo’s would be a last resort, but even then, he couldn’t count on its success. He would have to learn some spells, more than just the Untransfiguration. Perhaps he should go through Bokuto’s belongings to try and find the combination of spells, if it was a combination at all. He wondered if Kuroo would properly feed Bokuto. He’d forgotten to tell him what Bokuto liked. Then again, it was just meat, after all. That much was simple. But Bokuto also wanted to play during the nighttime. He would have to break Bokuto out of St. Mungo’s, if that was the case. If they were successful after all. They wouldn’t place an owl in Azkaban. If that was the case, though, he knew enough spells to pull off the break-out successfully. Hiding an owl under his cape would surely be easier than hiding a human. He should have told Kuroo to hide his chocolate frog cards. Then again, Kenma was more likely to collect the cards than Kuroo.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, and slowly sank his head into his arms.  
  


* * *

  
It was quiet in the common room.

Akaashi peered up from his Ancient Runes scroll. He half-expected to hear Bokuto barging into the room, catching him by the shoulder, and dragging him off somewhere. Though it wasn’t rare for Bokuto to skip classes, he could tell students were unsettled by the peacefulness of not hearing pranks pulled in some corner of the school. Akaashi usually was the one to pull Bokuto away before the professors came running, though he left Kuroo to his own devices. Not that Kuroo had ever been caught, either.

He flicked his quill around a few times. The runes continued to stay ancient. Around this time, Bokuto would tip-toe above him, laughing obnoxiously about how he was studying these sorts of things, as if he had never been a sixth year. 

The emptiness, though, was louder.

He wouldn’t be able to study tonight. He flipped the tomes closed, tucking them under his robes, and retired to his quarters. It wasn’t particularly late at night, but it was dark and quiet when he returned to bed. The moon had risen, reflecting a pale light that barely illuminated the beds.

A heavy exhaustion rested on his bones. He pulled his arm over his eyes, frowning to himself. He didn’t want to include his other teammates into this, but they were closer friends to Bokuto. They would surely know what to do. 

But even as he considered this, he knew it was a lie. He was simply tossing away the responsibility. Bokuto relied on him, in human form and owl form alike.

He couldn’t remember drowsing off to sleep, but his next memory was awakening to the still night. Something soft was brushing against his side. When he tilted his head to look, he could see the tufts of a great horned owl. 

“Bokuto-san,” he said, quiet, even though he knew no sounds would escape the silencing charm. He had always been better at charms than anything else. He raised a finger to pet down the owl’s feathers. Owl eyes looked at him, round and big in the darkness. 

“Please return to being a human.” He tried to summon up more words, but he felt an unshakable fatigue. “Please.” 

Bokuto hooted, once, and closed his eyes. Akaashi watched him, and then looked up at the top of his bed. At that moment, more than ever, he knew distinctly that Bokuto did not remember how to return to being human. 

He slept with a sense of finality and loneliness, and dreamt of an owl perched atop a tower, sitting where nobody could reach him.  
  


* * *

  
He skipped his potions class and wandered around the fringes of the Forbidden Forest, Bokuto nodding off on his shoulder. He had to think rationally about his next few steps, which could determine the rest of his life as a fugitive. Ultimately, he had to turn Bokuto into St. Mungo’s and hope the spell would be lifted. If they managed to untangle the spell and decided to send him to Azkaban, he simply had to break into the fourth floor and remove Bokuto before they did so. With Kuroo and Kenma’s help, he could go into hiding from there. 

He considered breaking Bokuto out and then remaining at Hogwarts, feigning ignorance about the ordeal. He could live the rest of his life normally while Bokuto went on a run. 

The wind rolled across the grass. He could see the towers of Hogwarts, looming before him, the orange color of the sunset tinting the walls. The last six years of his life, he’d been dragged around, pulled and prodded, wheedled and coaxed. He could remember the Quidditch Cup victories, the evenings at Hogsmeade, and the relentless laughter of someone beside him. When he closed his eyes, he imagined the last six years alone. 

At most, he could only stay another year to graduate. After that, he would tend to Bokuto, either human or owl. 

His decision had already been made six years ago. 

He felt cold, suddenly, though he knew sunset couldn’t have disappeared so quickly. When he glanced at the forest, the shadows seemed to loom dark and dangerous, stretching from the hands of the trees. He took a step back, but it felt like something was dragging his legs downwards. The prickling iciness wasn’t his imagination. His breath fogged in front of him, and all that remained in the forest was a hungry darkness. 

This was impossible. There was no way they could enter Hogwarts. They were a myth, locked away in Azkaban. He took another step back, but the shadows clutched onto his ankles, and he could feel Bokuto bristling. His fingers felt brittle and broken, but he reached for his wand, curling around the sturdy feeling of the wood.

The Dementors emerged from the shadows, peeling off from the darkness. Their empty forms draped down across the grass, hordes of faceless shapes, gliding towards him. His hand shook, and he used his left hand to grab himself by the wrist to try and stop it. Their rattling breaths felt like ice down his back. The despair already started to fill his lungs, a sinking desperation that dropped to his stomach. 

Night was falling, but their forms were unmistakable. Those breathless gasps were louder now, and he wet his lips, trying to speak. But he felt numb inside himself, like he could sink to his knees. He was stronger than this, he told himself, but he could see their scabbed hands, long and skeletal and reaching for him. 

“ _Expecto Patronus _,” he yelled, brandishing his wand in a circle. He knew the form and the words, but out of all the charms, he had the most difficulty with that one. A silvery mist crept out, but disappeared into the shadowy shapes. Even though it was cold enough to numb his fingers, he tried again.__

“ _Expecto…_ ” No, he had to think better. “ _Incendio_!”

It wasn’t a stupid move. He had no problem with any other charm, and charms were his strength. But he knew that it wouldn’t work even before the tree spluttered into a weak fire, which fizzled out into a thin steam. It was cold. It was very cold. He could taste despair deep in his throat. He had to protect Bokuto. 

A happy memory. He had to think about a happy memory. He couldn’t think about the Dementor’s Kiss. But his hands felt cold. Happy. Think about happiness. But even as terror seized his heart, he could only remember the happiest person he had known. They were closing in on him. Everything was growing heavy. His shoulder felt heavy. 

Then, it felt light.

Bokuto had landed in front of him, wings outstretched, and screaming. Akaashi took a panicked step forward to grab him and throw him far away from here, but he stopped. 

The owl was growing, steady and tall. The breadth of the back turned into a dark robe, lined with gold. The wingtips turned into hands, talons into feet, feathers still clinging over the shirt and to his face. But even those feathers turned silvery, and translucent wings emerged from the back. Then, with a quick snap of the wings, a large owl emerged from the body, rising up bright and blinding. Even when shielding his eyes, Akaashi could tell it was no fledgling, but a fully adult owl, leaving behind a trail as it swept into the Dementors. It was unmistakably a predator, and hungry for the hunt.

“Hey, hey, hey! Did you forget about me?” Bokuto was grinning, eyes following where the owl broke into the Dementors. They fled away, leaving inky trails behind them, but the Patronus was relentless. It swirled about, leaving light wispiness that tangled into the shadows. When the last vestiges of the Dementors had vanished, the owl hovered in the air, wings outstretched, before disappearing into the night. 

Akaashi stood still, fingers still wrapped around his wand. His heart was loud in his ears. Bokuto laughed, hands on his hips, as he turned around. The same gray vest, messy blue tie, rumpled shirt not properly tucked in. He was human again.

“Hey, Akaashi, did you see that? That was awesome, right? There had to be hundreds of them! And a nonverbal spell! For a Patronus charm! I’m the best! Isn’t that amazing? Akaashi, you saw that, right? You definitely saw that, right? That was awesome! But it was totally unintentional!” Bokuto threw his head back and laughed loudly, obviously proud of himself. 

Akaashi did the only thing he could think to do.

He punched Bokuto in the face.  
  


* * *

  
It wasn’t breaking out of St. Mungo’s, but Akaashi did occasionally visit Bokuto in the hospital wing of Hogwarts. He did not, however, apologize for breaking Bokuto’s nose.

“I don’t really remember what happened when I was an owl,” Bokuto said, when he was released early from the hospital for bad behavior. He tied his shin guards high on his legs, sitting on a hovering broom, bandage taped across his nose. 

“Of course not. But you should thank Kuroo. You might have been sent to Azkaban without him.”

“I already sent him a thank you note! But I only had Howlers.”

Akaashi eyed him distastefully. 

“Good to have you back, captain,” Sarukai said, swinging by them. “Any plans after practice to celebrate your humanness?” 

“Akaashi and I are going to break into the Gryffindor Tower,” Bokuto said proudly.

Akaashi could feel the hundred points already disappearing from Ravenclaw.

“Is that okay with you, Akaashi?” Komi asked. He spoke with the correct knowledge that Bokuto hadn’t consulted him about this beforehand. But Akaashi only shrugged. 

“I’ll go,” he said. He keenly felt the silence fall on his team members, surprise on their faces. Bokuto was the most surprised, eyes and mouth open wide, staggering back from his broom with his hands flailed out to protect himself. 

“Why are you so shocked? You’re the one who asked,” Akaashi said. “And hanging out is something friends do, after all.” 

He kicked off from the ground, sailing towards the hoops and leaving them behind. It wasn’t like he expected the Dementors to come back to the school grounds.

But he could always make a few more happy memories.


End file.
